


Breaking Under Pressure

by thatwhirringsound



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Goodbye Stranger, M/M, Main Character Death (Sort of), Psychological Trauma, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-06 10:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwhirringsound/pseuds/thatwhirringsound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'If he was so concerned about you don't you think he would have come for you by now? Please, Castiel. As long as that human has no use for you he couldn't care less. You are a creature he hunts for a living, what made you think you were so different? You're not special, just a convenient tool to be thrown away as soon as it's broken.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Under Pressure

**Author's Note:**

> So I know this has been done a few times, but I had the need to write this out, so here you go. It was not very fun torturing precious baby in a trenchcoat.

The first time Naomi conjured up the not-Dean and told him to run the hunter through he almost became sick right there. He'd spit in her face and told her just what he thought of that idea. The torture after that little stunt had been brutal, feathers thrown everywhere, deep gashes all over his body. His voice had given out from all the  _screaming._ All the while there was the ever-present whispers  _'You know how to end this, Castiel. Just do what you're told and the pain will go away.'_

It wasn't until she shoved that  _thing_  into his forehead that he lost all of his willpower. Something in him  _snapped_  and suddenly he was looking down at the not-Dean, breath leaving him as he coughed up blood, knife embedded deep into his heart. Realizing what he'd done, that she'd beaten him, Castiel crumpled to the ground, holding his not-Dean close, crying out, begging him not to be dead, repeating his mantra of _'I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry, Dean, please don't be dead, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry.'_

He didn't come back. But another not-Dean showed up. And another. And another. Each time he fought against her tricks, held the Deans that were so  _wrong_  close, tried to protect them, but every time she beat him, forcing something deep inside him to give in and obey blindly. He hated it, every single moment of it.

The nightmares started around the fiftieth kill.

Horrible nightmares where Dean would grab him, shake him, yell at him because  _how could he do this, how could he give into her?_  He tried to reach out to Dean, explain, tell him how sorry he was, but every time the angel found himself pushed away, left broken and alone on the ground.

It wasn't until the two hundredth Dean that he stopped having tears to give. But the pain never left, and he never stopped resisting. 

Then things started to change. Suddenly the wrong-Dean wasn't just standing there ready to die as all the others had, now the mockery of his friend was spitting at him, fighting back, attacking full force. Suddenly Castiel found himself killing Dean in self-defense before he realized what was happening. Naomi gave him this little smile, like she knew she had finally gotten him. 

Slowly and painfully he became numb. His body had been beaten and tortured, his wings barely anything of their former glory. She still drove the screws into his head every day, trying to make him stop resisting. It never worked longer then it took Castiel to find the nearest puppet and run it through before he snapped himself out long enough to try and follow through on his instincts of  _ripattackkillrevenge_ before it all started again.

Around the three hundred and sixtieth Dean he stopped trying to apologize.

At some point the merciless, horrible Deans became pleading Deans and Castiel started to hesitate again. 

Naomi had none of that and soon broke him of that little hesitation too.

The nightmares continued.

Kill four hundred and forty was when he finally snapped. Blade turned on himself he tried to end it, the endless Deans that weren't his Dean, the horrible torture, the absolute all-encompassing guilt that threatened to drown him. But he wasn't even allowed this luxury, strapped down and facing Naomi's wrath for days and days and weeks. 

Castiel began to hallucinate. 

That's the only explanation he could find for hearing the voice of his friend in his head every night. Prayers, desperate prayers of  _'Please, Cas, just answer me, I want to know you're okay.'_ and  _'Protect my baby brother. Cas? Where are you?'_

Castiel had found his sanity in the hunter's prayers before when they were separated in Purgatory. The human's constant stream of begging, yelling and broken pleas had kept him strong and reminded him of why he was keeping away, of why he was doing what he was.

He took the same comfort now, imagining that the prayers really were Dean, that the hunter really was concerned about him. It gave him a new will to fight back. Naomi found a way to take this comfort away from him too.

_'If he was so concerned about you don't you think he would have come for you by now? Please, Castiel. As long as that human has no use for you he couldn't care less. You are a creature he hunts for a living, what made you think you were so different? You're not special, just a convenient tool to be thrown away as soon as it's broken.'_

He tried not to listen, but when all of the not-Deans with hate in their eyes started saying the same things he found his resolve wavering.

Over six hundred Deans and the angry and harsh words turned to pleas once more, and this time the angel hardly noticed. 

He was angry and hurt and so so tired. Tired of killing, tired of the nightmares, of the torture, of the constant lack of knowing what was real and what was another lie of Naomi's. Most of all he was tired of waiting for Dean to somehow do what he always did and fix this impossible mess with that confident smirk and an easy joke about Castiel being a damsel in distress. 

Dean eight hundred and twenty-eight threw this off track with three, simple words.  _'I love you'_  and suddenly his blade had stilled, his heart was in his mouth and there was a ringing in his ears.This Dean looked up at him with such trust and love and undeserved hope it made Castiel feel sick in a way he hadn't in a few months of this constant conditioning. 

He found himself on the block for the first time in a few weeks. 

That night he prayed. He prayed to his Father for strength and help and most of all for Dean to be safe and away and happy. He found tears again as he pleaded that he never see Dean again, the real Dean, his Dean, not these hurtful mockeries of the man he loves. It ripped him apart to make this request, but at the rate Naomi was gong he was so scared that he wouldn't be able to stop himself, so he pleaded that he would never have the chance to test his control and resistance. 

All of the Deans after that started to use that three word phrase that was chiseling away at the last of the angel's sanity. Nine hundred and three heard the words  _'If you truly loved me you wouldn't have left me here'_  right before he died. Naomi smiled at him. He didn't have the energy to feel anything but numb.

It became easier and easier as his emotions became more detached until one day Naomi stood behind him whispering praise in his ear.

_'You're ready.'_

And God looked down on his child and whispered comfort in his ear.

_'Do not fear, Castiel, for it is Dean Winchester's turn to bring you back from the Pit. All is well.'_

Because out of all the scenarios Naomi imagined and created for Castiel she could never recreate the beautiful mixture of soul and Grace found in the Righteous Man. She could never guess that all Castiel needed  _were_  three words, but not the ones she had used.

 _'We need you_.'

_'I need you.'_

And thus Castiel was saved on a Thursday from his own personal Hell by a man who believed he could do nothing but hurt everyone around him.

The irony was not lost on him.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://forgottentrenchcoats.tumblr.com)
> 
> [Livejournal](http://whirringsounds.livejournal.com)


End file.
